The Quest
by royalrosie2000
Summary: "Who wants to go Questing? Join us at the InterGalatic Tournament for a chance at fame, glory, and prizes!" Just a yellow flyer, spouting unclear and overly-cheerful messages. But it attracts attention. Now, people from different worlds, even different universes, have gathered. What is the Quest all about? And once they discover what it is, who will be brave enough to take it?


**Hello! This is a collab story written between myself (royalrosie2000) and my friend and fellow writer Godpen, who will be writin gthe next chapter. Thanks for reading~**

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**THE PLANET OF VINTILIX, OUT OF THE WAY TOWN FITZINFIE, 1100 HOURS, 11:00 AM:**

The young man sat at his table, stirring his small, dark coffee with a straw, absentmindedly reading the paper. He had spiky auburn hair that glimmered in the light, eyes that looked as watery and blue as raindrops. Freckles were as frequent on his face as snow in a snowstorm; there was hardly a single spot where you could see his tanned skin. He wore simple jeans, a black, comfortable hoodie, sturdy sneakers.

The cafe where he ate was quite charming, with a large patio that left you wide open to the warming rays of the sun. To his right, was the main body of the cafe, and to his left, a iron fence seperating him from the busy, peach-coloured, stone road.

His eyes flickered over the paper, seeming to read it. Perhaps he really was reading it. But he wasn't. You could tell in the way that his eyes seemed to glaze over a bit, once even looking directly at the couple in front of him.

There was a girl, approxiamately his age, and a man, much, much older. The girl was pretty, but not stunning. She had short, caramel curls framing her face, intelligent olive green eyes, reasonably tanned skin. The man had been handsome, but age had weathered his features. He had a bit of a pot belly, a meaty neck, broad shoulders, a bit of a glint in his beady little eyes. They were conversing. The girl had a croissant, uneaten, sitting on a plate in front of her. The man said something. The girl laughed.

The young man's grip on the paper tightened ever so slightly, his jaw gritted just a bit. He took a deep breath in and out. But, all of these things he did, you would only notice if you were looking for them. Finally, he started to fold up his paper.

Abruptly, the girl at the table in front of him stood up. She made an excuse, blushed, flung some money on the table, fled.

The man at the table made no move to follow her, instead staring forlornly at the purple bills on the table, the untouched croissant.

Meanwhile, the young man with eyes like raindrops had slipped away, unnoticed.

**2000 HOURS, 8:00 PM:**

It was dark out now, with the pale blue glow from the moon just barely illuminating the streets. A large square building rose up out of the ground, each and every one of it's rectangular windows glowing with light. If you looked into one of those windows, just one specific one- the fourth from the top, on the farthest left- you could see an old, balding man.

He was sitting on a chair, staring out the window at the dark sky, the little stars twinkling with a hope that he didn't have anymore. They had stolen it, perhaps. After all, where did his lost hope go? How could the stars shine so brightly without a source of hope?

And then the phone rang.

He jumped a bit, scrabbling at his buttoned-up coat pocket. Eventually, he managed to open up his coat pocket, take out the phone, and press the button.

He had a hurried exchange with the person on the other line, hung up, and smiled at the stars. Maybe they weren't so greedy as to keep all hope from him after all.

The old man looked down at his outfit, buttoned up his light gray tweed jacket over his rounded belly, straightened his black tie, grabbed his car keys and left the apartment.

Only moments later, he exited from the main entrance, looking very pleased with himself. He hobbled over to his little car that was probably as old as he was, unlocked it, and drove off.

He made a pit-stop on his journey, at a flower store- picking up twelve dozen pink tulips; why roses were forgone is a mystery.

Eventually he reached a quaint little restaurant, handing his keys to the freckled valet, fixing his tie one last time before straightening his back and strolling confidently into the restaurant to meet his date- a pretty young girl who wanted to apologize for rushing off during a brunch date earlier that very same day.

**2200 HOURS, 10:00 PM:**

The laughing couple stumbled into the apartment, the girl leaning heavily on the older man's shoulder. She made an odd, purring noise and took off her navy blue blazer, revealing strong arms and a skin-tight, margarine coloured tank top. She tossed the blazer aside, pushed away the older man's searching hands, and headed for the kitchen, tottering slightly- though whether it was because of alcohol, or her high heels, it was hard to say.

The older man frowned as his younger prize walked away, trailing after her in a drunken haze. She opened the fridge, examined the contents, took out a can of whipped cream and squirted herself a mouthful. Then she put it back, swallowed, and closed the fridge door.

"You have whip cream on your nose," the middle-aged man smiled lazily, reaching out to rub it off. The girl giggled, let him take the fluffy whiteness off her sharp nose.

"Why, thank ya- thank yo...?" The girl mumbled, tripping over her words in her intoxicated state.

"I think you mean thank _you_, Mary..." The man rolled her name, sounding proud that he was able to correct her mistake. Mary blearily blinked at him, grinned, and waddled over to him.

"Oh, how silly... thank _you_, Mister... uh... what was your name again?" Mary batted her eyelashes, draping herself across his left shoulder, one of her arms loosely hanging around his thick neck, the other hanging by her side.

The man chortled, turning into Mary's hold so that he faced her, only inches away from her face.

"You're adorable when you forget things, dearie. My name is-"

All the blood drained from his face. Mary smiled, her glistening red lips curving into something that looked more menacing than friendly.

"Your name is Linus, isn't that right?" Mary whispered seductively, her pronounciation of every word spot-on.

"You- Who- W-what?" Linus gasped, a gleaming knife held to his chest- directly above his heart. The silver blade was already starting to pierce his skin, causing the smallest trickle of blood to roll down his chest; he shivered.

Mary's cold, hard eyes met his. She had never been drunk. She had never been interested in a geezer like him. Of course not, the stars would never allow him that.

"Linus, I hereby sentence you to death by assasination for the murder of Miss Janelle Jippel. Your sentence will be served immediately." Mary informed him, her voice robotic, dead, practiced.

Linus gulped. How could he not have expected this- he deserved it. He killed that poor girl. He must accept his crime, srub the blood off his hands... but he wasn't ready to give up life yet.

Mary was just a little 18-year-old, he was more experienced, stronger, better. He could psyche her out, play mind-games, confuse her.

He licked his dry lips, "Are-Are you sure you can hit my heart?"

Mary cocked her head, her steely eyes flickering down to where her blade was resting on his chest.

"You- You work for the police, right? The police don't train people how to kill- not effectively, at least! You'll hit a rib," The more Linus talked the more confident he felt, "it's really hard to pierce the heart, and I bet this is your first time killing, isn't it? It's supposed to be hard the first time, right?"

The blade's edge bit into his skin.

"You get one shot, Mary. If you miss my heart, I won't die instantly. My blood will splatter, I'll scream, we'll attract attention."

Mary stared at his with those unnerving eyes, her mouth set in a straight line.

Finally, she blinked slowly, opened her mouth, and said:

"I only need one shot."

**2231 HOURS, 10:31 PM:**

The doorbell rang.

Mary wiped her eyes of tears, took a deep breath, and took control of her emotions. She got up from the leather couch, steadily walked over to the door, not glancing at the dead man on the kitchen floor.

She opened the door, relaxing as the familiar face of her partner slid into view. She looked him over, raised an eyebrow in disdain, then stepped back to let him inside.

"Woah! And he's dead, he's dead! What happened Mary, don't you have a heart?" The boy with eyes like raindrops teased as Mary let him into the apartment.

His deep blue eyes sweeped the room; wooden floors, a single window, two doors- a bathroom and a bedroom. The fridge was stainless steel, the table had a vase full of twelve pink tulips, and there was a leather couch in the measly living room.

"Stuff a sock in it." Mary snapped.

"Oh, someone's a little crabby. What happened, did you get a drop of blood on your shirt?" Her partner cracked a smile, teasing her.

"_Jake."_

"Okay, Okay! I'll leave you alone, _princess_!"

A clang of metal meeting metal rang through the apartment; Mary's razor-sharp knife was one caterpillar length from Jake's throat, held back by a sharp, three-tonged, spork.

A horrible screeching sound filled their ears as the knife slid off the spork, creating friction.

Jake grinned like a wild man, laughing maniacally as Mary gritted her teeth and flared her nostrils, trying to get through his defence.

Finally they broke apart, though both held their weapons out, just in case of an attack. Mary looked at Jake's choice weapon.

"You're still using that_ spork_?" She sighed, upset.

"Why not? It's a dangerous weapon, and a eating utensil. A spoon and a fork together- It's perfect for me!" Jake's eyes sparkled, and he hugged the spork for a second before remembering the knife pointed at his face. He got back into his stance, the sharpened prongs glinting.

Mary bit her lip, thought about it, then put her weapon away. Jake followed suit, the danger having passed.

"Headquarters called me, told me what to do with the body." Jake mentioned offhandedly, like he was talking about the weather.

"So, what's the plan?" Mary asked, all of her bravado leaving at once at the idea that she would have to touch a dead body.

"They said to just leave the body- they'll dispose of it. They sent me a flyer." Jake casually pulled out a sushine yellow piece of paper, specks of dried blood littered across it.

Mary took it, examined it, mentally sighing in relief that the body would be taken care of by the Orginization.

"_Who wants to go Questing? Join us at the InterGalatic Tournament for a chance at fame, glory, and prizes!"_ Mary read aloud, "This looks ridiculous. What do they mean by InterGalactic?"

"There'll be people from different worlds there, maybe different dimensions even." Jake explained, stepping over the dead body on his way to the kitchen.

"Oh, come on! We're assasins, not 'Questers'!" Mary complained. Jake reached for the whip cream can, noticed the red lipstick on it, and grabbed an orange juice carton instead.

"Jake, are you even listening?!" Mary glared at him, and Jake gave her a thumbs-up with his right hand while he grabbed a glass from the open cabinet with his left hand.

"What do you think, then?" Mary asked, sighing exasperatedly.

"I think it sounds fun. Besides, what choice do we have?" Jake added darkly, thinking of the Orginization they worked for.

Though labelled as Bounty Hunters, more often than not their missions consisted of assinations and murdering people- sometimes for just reasons, like this case, sometimes for nothing more than "He looked at me weird" (Yes, that has happened before). Headquarters sent them missions, left them to do them. They got no money in return, no reward, no help if things went wrong.

The Orginization is cruel, blackmailing its members so they cannot quit, grooming people to kill from as young as eight.

Mary's eyes grew watery again as she thought of her own reason for joining the Orginization.

_Daniel..._

"So, let's go?"

"Huh?" Mary spluttered as Jake finished off his orange juice and set the glass by the sink- like someone actually might, eventually, clean it.

"We're leaving now- like, right now. InterGalatic meetings don't happen everyday, you know. Now, let's get to it!" Jake cheered, grabbing Mary by her hand and pulling her towards the single apartment window.

"What- Jake- JAKE!" Mary screamed as they crashed into the window, falling, falling, and then landing on something soft and squishy.

Mary groaned at the impact, sitting up as fast as she could.

"Jake? Where are you? I need to kill you!" Mary called, looking around.

She was in some sort of convertible car, in the back seat- which was incredibly comfortable, by the way. The car roof was open, and Jake was nowhere to be seen. The dark sky raced by overhead, the stars glinting brightly.

Aside from the whole jumping out the window thing, something felt off about all of this. The car was moving, but she couldn't see a driver, she couldn't feel any bumps in the road... Mary looked out the window.

The car was flying through the air, soaring over the small little town of Fitzenfie.

She screamed in terror and clasped onto the car seat, expecting to start falling at any minute.

But instead, they just travelled up- farther up than Mary believed possible. Soon they were flying through space, and the stars were so close she could touch them.

A voice suddenly came over the radio-

_Warp Speed in 5...4...3.._

Mary's eyes flew open as wide as they could go and she pressed her mouth close- one scream a day was enough.

_2...1..._

And then everything around her blurred into a magnifecent array of colours; Mary's mind simply couldn't comprehend all of it. She blacked out, entering dreams filled with brillant, beautiful colours, stars overhead, and a voice- saying the same thing over and over again.

_"This is your first time killing, isn't it?"_

Linus's voice spirralled through her dreams- turning them into nightmares. What he had said shook her, not for the reasons one might think. The truth was...

...Linus hadn't been the first person to say that to her.


End file.
